


Before the Day is Done

by blackglass, Philyra



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Psychics/Psionics, Alternate Universe - Werecreatures, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, CATWS but in Psy Changeling form kinda sorta, Changelings (Nalini Singh), Community: pod_together, F/M, Podfic, Podfic Length: 30-45 Minutes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-06-21 23:01:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15568272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackglass/pseuds/blackglass, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philyra/pseuds/Philyra
Summary: Councilor Pierce's pet assassin is a ghost. He should have kept him buried.[Podfic AND story text within]





	Before the Day is Done

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Limits By Moonlight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6924970) by [tielan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan). 



   


  
  
Cover art by: [Frea_O](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Frea_O)  


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The mask fell from his nerveless fingers, clattering to the floor with a dull _thud._ “Bucky?” Steve couldn’t reconcile the face in front of him. The last time he saw it was ten years ago, contorted in terror as his body plunged into the icy ravine below.

“Who the hell is Bucky.” Each word grated, forced out of the assassin - _Bucky’s_ \- throat. As though it had been a very, very long time since he’d last spoken. The blades of two long, wicked Bowie knives glinted in the light.

Everything about the man in front of him was wrong. Hair, long and straggly, falling into his face. Scruff Bucky never would have suffered in real life. Face flat and expressionless when it should have been alive with emotion, lips quick to curve into a smile or smirk, eyebrows constantly hitched and teasing.

The worst were the eyes, blue chips of ice that never strayed from him, and never resolved into recognition. “Bucky,” Steve began again, raising his hands. “I don’t-”

Maria winked into existence beside him. “Found you,” she murmured. Her quicksilver gaze took on the approaching man. Few would have been able to gauge her reaction. Her Silence was almost perfect, honed from an early age to keep her from feeling and expressing any emotion in order to keep her incredible powers under tight control.

But Steve had been making a study of Maria ever since their paths crossed, bringing nine Psy children to him for sanctuary. Call it caution, call it paranoia, call it intrigue, but Steve had catalogued her every twitch and tell. The slight widening of her eyes and the small step she took in his direction was equal parts fear and disbelief. “We have to go.”

“No-”

Her hand landed on his sleeve and they were gone, reappearing back in the heart of Howling Commando territory.

* * *

 

Natasha felt the knock rather than heard it, a sound that resonated only in her mind. _Maria?_

_Meeting down at the den. Bring Nick and Clint. Sam too._

_Sounds urgent._

_You’re going to want to hear this._

_We’ll be there._

She passed along the message, knowing that Clint would tell Sam. Pale green eyes swept over the ever-moving press of humanity - human, Psy, and Changeling alike - below. Like Maria and Phil, she’d defected from her people and sought refuge amongst Changelings. Only instead of the wilderness, she chose to hide in plain sight. The RedWing cast of falcons claimed New York City and its boroughs as its territory, and there was no better place to disappear.

An actual, physical knock sounded this time and she turned towards the door. “Come in.”

The twins entered, Pietro with his shock of silver hair, Wanda with her long fall of brown hair. Both of them cardinals, Psy with abilities beyond the measurable scale of the Gradient. Pietro scowled faintly at Natasha before demanding, “You’re leaving?”

“They have to see Maria,” Wanda murmured, tilting her head.

“Eavesdropping is rude,” Natasha reminded her. She didn’t smile, but allowed her amusement to seep into her voice, to permeate the link between them. An unthinkable action had she still been in the PsyNet.

_You left that particular shield down._

_Just wanted to see if anyone was paying attention._

Both twins were high-level telepaths, but while Pietro was a TK-V like Clint, Wanda was an X.

Natasha had always known it was only a matter of time before she left the PsyNet. Silence wasn’t the answer for every Psy, and there was a rot within the Arrows. Pietro’s rehabilitation order was simply her breaking point. With that order, someone within the Psy Council was making a deadly play for control of Wanda’s power. Without Pietro to balance her, there was no telling the kind of havoc she could wreak. By faking their deaths in a supposed training accident, Natasha, Clint, and Nick had saved innumerable others.

Maria and Phil defected from the PsyNet months later following the same example. Together, Phil and Nick worked to merge their separate networks into one: the ShieldNet. Five adults, two teenagers, and nine children made for a steady biofeedback loop, one that kept all of them alive.

Clint, Nick, and Sam winked into existence beside them. “I really hate that,” Sam muttered, shaking himself like he was fluffing his feathers.

Clint’s eyes crinkled the slightest at the corners, the smallest indication that his Silence was also cracking away. But then, Clint had only been the perfect Psy on the outside. Leaving had served him well too, allowing him to finally give voice to the emotions he’d been forced to hide. “I’m a TK-V, Sam. It’s like a blink, from one place to the next. No discomfort whatsoever.”

“I still prefer flying.” RedWing’s wing leader scowled, and then turned to Wanda and Pietro. “You two need to get back down to the school before the maternals start hunting for you.”

Two pairs of eyes - cardinal black and littered with stars - lit up, Wanda’s with delight and Pietro’s with mischief. Pietro grabbed his sister’s hand and without another word, whisked them away.

Natasha wanted to sigh. “I’ve told him to stop teleporting around the building.”

Sam shrugged. “It’s fine, they haven’t appeared anywhere they’re not supposed to.”

“Yet.” If anyone knew the kind of trouble Pietro could get into, it was Clint.

Sam scoffed, and crossed his arms. “You think we don’t know the kind of trouble he can get into? You haven’t even _seen_ what the fledglings can do. The maternals know what they’re doing.” His look was pointed as he leveled it on Clint. “Thought we had a meeting to get to.”

Clint’s shoulder lifted, a small movement, and they too disappeared.

* * *

 

Maria slid a small plastic bag across the table to Natasha. As a TK she could have just moved it over, but they were still settling into some kind of easy accord with the Howling Commandos. She still felt uncomfortable outwardly advertising their abilities. “Soviet slugs, no rifling.”

Natasha’s fingers froze, but only for a second. “Where did you get these?” She felt Clint’s presence brush against hers in the ShieldNet, a brief show of support.

“From my shoulder,” Steve said. Easy words, easy delivery, but there was no mistaking the predator lurking just beneath the alpha’s skin. As if he was ready to pounce at the slightest provocation.

“The kidnapping attempt,” she murmured, instantly understanding. The alarm had sounded at RedWing too, the falcons and the wolves as close as two predatory Changeling packs could be without merging. Though they now resided outside the PsyNet, Clint, Natasha, and Nick retained trusted contacts within it, ones who’d provided them with the necessary intel to retrieve Steve.

 _Tell him, Natasha._ She glanced up to find Maria’s gaze on her.

 _Why?_ Maria knew almost all of the reasons why Natasha kept such information hidden, close.

_A level of trust is necessary here. Please._

Maria never asked for anything: not this way, at least. Therefore, when she did Natasha paid attention. She didn’t bother looking to Clint or Nick, feeling their agreement through the ShieldNet. Her spine straightened imperceptibly. “There is a rumor even amongst the Arrows,” she said. Had she been anything but Psy, it would have sounded like the beginning of a story. From her, it was simple fact. “That Councilor Pierce has a personal assassin outside of the Arrows. A Changeling, broken and experimented upon until he was perfect. Changeling abilities, but under complete Psy control.”

A low growl echoed throughout the room. The hair on Natasha’s arm rose, an involuntary reaction. The sound wasn’t coming from Steve, but the other Howling Commando lieutenants present.

Sam frowned, outwardly unruffled except for the way he’d gone utterly still. As though he too was moments away from striking. “I thought it was a waste of energy for Psy to try and break through our shields.”

“Councilor Pierce is a cardinal telepath,” Nick responded, his voice like Arctic ice. “It would have taken him some time, but his energy expenditure would have been negligible.”

“But why?” Bruce asked. “You’ve told us that Alexander Pierce controls the Arrows - the Psy’s deadliest assassins. Why go to all that trouble for one Changeling?”

 _I do not think this knowledge is necessary for the task at hand._ As ever, Nick preferred to keep as many secrets to themselves, despite or perhaps because of current circumstances.

_Not necessary, perhaps, but it could provide context._

_Like the context you are withholding from us, Maria?_ Natasha knew there was something more here, some tidbit that was crucial to the entire situation.

 _It is not my story to tell._ Her resolve was steel-plated, but Natasha never expected anything less, when it came to Maria.

_Then we do not need to tell them anything._

_No, we don’t,_ Clint replied to Nick, respectful but full of conviction. _But these Changelings have given us refuge. And if we want to achieve everything we’ve planned, we can’t do it alone._

Therefore it was Clint who finally spoke. His words fell like stones in a pond, quiet rippling in their wake. “Because his control over the Arrows is in name only. The Arrows no longer answer to him. Councilor Pierce does nothing that isn’t to his advantage, and he needed one person who was completely under his control.”

Natasha saw the claws slice out from Steve’s fingers before he retracted them, his hands curling into fists on the table. “We’ll get back to the Arrows later.” There was a rumble to his voice, almost like thunder, and there was something almost like betrayal in his eyes as he glanced at Maria. “Tell me more about this assassin.”

“Most don’t believe he exists. Those who do, call him the Winter Soldier.”

Thor snorted, leaning back in his chair. “That is fanciful, for Psy.”

“Even we have our own ghost stories.” This time, when Natasha looked up it was to find Steve looking straight at her. It was a challenge of dominance that she knew well enough, living amongst falcons and their unblinking stares. She held it for long enough to establish her own dominance, telling him without words that she was no one to underestimate. Then she broke it. She had no desire to establish herself as an alpha. She had, and always would, work better in the shadows.

 _That was a good show of dominance,_ Maria said, even as a small smile flicked across Steve’s face.

 _Just following your example._ Faint amusement seeped across their link. It had not escaped Natasha’s notice that Maria’s Silence was fragmenting quickly when it came to the wolf alpha. Before their defection, Natasha would have said that nothing could ever shake the other woman’s training. Things were different now, and she would never point fingers when it came to Silence.

They all had their own reasons for adhering to or abandoning those protocols. And now, they were no longer bound by the rules and restrictions placed by the Psy Council.

“How do you know so much about a ghost story?”

She hesitated. Her ledger opened in her mind, ever present and stained red. It was only fitting that she remembered every single name, as she’d been the one sent to erase them. For the good of her people, she’d been told.

_Nat. You don’t owe anyone this._

_No, but I will not run from it,_ she told Clint. _It is a part of me, for better or worse._ “Councilor Pierce has never truly been one of us. He might have broken the Winter Soldier and programmed him, but a trainer was still necessary. Only an Arrow can teach another Arrow how to hunt and kill.” Pierce needed someone strong enough to handle his pet assassin, someone veiled and deadly and discreet. Someone ruthless, someone who did not hesitate when handed orders.

“Who?” Carol asked curiously.

Steve’s gaze was piercing now. Smart, Natasha thought. So much smarter than the Psy gave them credit for. “You’re looking at her.” This time she refused to back down from the stare-down. “So, Steve Rogers. Tell me - who is the Winter Soldier?”

A muscle clenched in his jaw. A picture flicked onto the comm screen - two men, laughing, arms thrown around each other’s shoulders. One was clearly Steve, younger, thinner, joy shining bright from his face.

The other was handsome, heartbreakingly so. Short, dark hair swept back from his forehead. Clean-shaven, with a stubborn set to his jaw even though his head was thrown back in sheer delight. But those _eyes-_

Natasha knew those eyes.

Had she been anything but Psy, she might have stopped breathing, might have sat up straight in her chair, grabbed the side of the table. Had she been anything but a telepath, she might have shattered all the lightbulbs in the room or flung every single person away from the table.

But Natasha was none of those things, so she sat as though turned to stone.

“His name is James Buchanan Barnes. My best friend.”

* * *

 

There wasn’t much of him left, not anymore. Not after his mind had been shattered and reformed, shaped into a mold that left him blank and empty for days on end. And that was only when he was awake.

Most of the time he was left alone in the cold dark, tormented by fragments and dreams, scenes where he could not even begin to imagine what was real and what was not. The silent pop of a sniper rifle, a flash of steely blades, and blood. Always so much blood.

He only knew two things to be absolutely true: one was the forest-scape of snow-capped mountains and trees dripping with ice, a scene that never changed no matter what path he took. It was his fortress, his escape.

_You need to create a place where you can hide. Where no one will ever find you. Think of a place like that, and put it in your mind. When he tries to tear you apart, go there._

The voice was female. Sometimes he had the impression of hair like a sunset, eyes like agates. But most of all the scent, sharp and crackling like lightning but touched with the faintest hint of cinnamon. An unexpected warmth.

The second thing he knew was that whoever she was, her scent marked her as inextricably his.

Light flooded his vision and he blinked, finding himself pinned by eyes of pure ice. “You failed your mission, soldier.”

“The man on the bridge.” Most missions left the soldier with a blank sort of apathy. He knew he was not Psy, but with everything that had been done to him he might as well be the same. Unthinking, unfeeling, more machine than man at this point. “Did I know him?”

This time, everything about this last mission seemed wrong from the beginning. Fighting was his purpose, and every mission had provided gifted, even exceptional opponents. The man on the bridge was one of those exceptional few, but there was more to it than a more challenging fight. His style had a measure of predictability in it, but not because the soldier had the skill to anticipate them - it was as though that fighting style was familiar to him.

The soldier could not explain it, nor could he explain the surge of protectiveness, or the jolt when the man on the bridge called him, “Bucky?”

“You only knew him as your mission,” was the granite-laden reply.

That didn’t sound right. “He knew me. I must know him.”

The psychic slap drove thousands of needles into his brain, making him jerk back in his seat. He did not scream. There was no use in that.

“It appears you’ve been out of cryogenics too long, soldier. Your brain is disintegrating.” The pronouncement was made with no inflection, no emotion whatsoever. “You need work. Again.”

This time, he knew better than to linger. He fled to that corner of his mind, the snow and the forests, losing himself.

For if he lost himself, there was nothing to wipe. Nothing to break.

Nothing more to lose.

* * *

 

“Maria. A word?”

She stopped in the doorway, and motioned for Natasha to go ahead with Thor and Bruce and the rest of the Psy. _I’ll catch up._

Natasha looked between her and Steve. Was she smirking? _Let Clint know if he needs to teleport in for a rescue._

_That’s unnecessary, I can teleport myself._

_I know._

Maria closed the door and turned, her nose barely brushing the front of Steve’s denim shirt. He moved so swiftly, so silently. So lethally. She couldn’t forget that, couldn’t ever forget that, despite everything.

Despite the fact that the children were making friends amongst the pack, and Phil had a job as both a teacher and trainer. Despite the fact that she was now one of Steve’s lieutenants.

She tilted her head back to meet that remarkable gaze - blue like the sky on the hottest summer day, framed by long, lush, dark lashes that most women would covet. “You wished to speak with me?”

“You never said anything about Pierce losing control of the Arrows.”

“It was not my secret to tell,” she replied, echoing her earlier statement to her fellow Psy. There was no reason for the Howling Commandos to know the depth of the councilor’s betrayal to the elite squad he’d once commandeered - the deaths he’d ordered once someone was considered “expendable,” the drugs, the rehabilitation orders...

“No?” Steve prowled around her, and the strength of his regard was almost a physical touch. “You were trained by them, served with them, and yet you no longer consider yourself one of them?”

No. She would be an Arrow from now until the day she died. Whether it was by Steve’s hands or someone else’s remained to be seen. “My situation has changed.” She turned to face him head-on, unwilling to be stalked as though she were prey. “We chose not to divulge that information in order to preserve the safety of those who have not managed to escape, like us. And until now, the information was not relevant.”

“I don’t appreciate these secrets.”

“You cannot begrudge me mine, when you have many of your own.”

Quick as a flash, his arm shot out, hauling her against him. Just as quickly, she _shoved_ with her TK, pushing him back. His grin flashed, something dark and amused and impressed. Was he remembering the last time she’d done that, when he’d kissed her beneath the moonlight? Something about the curve of his lips told her he was. “See, there’s a difference. My secrets keep my pack safe. Yours could destroy it, and you know I won’t allow that.”

There was a flutter in her chest, almost like the admission hurt her. The feeling flickered and then disappeared, crushed beneath a protocol that did not admit to emotion. “Do you still believe that I would bring harm to the Howling Commandos?”

“You wouldn’t be here if that were the case.”

“And this information keeps many Arrows safe in the Net.” If Councilor Pierce had any idea that the Arrows were close to rebellion, many would die and that was the plain truth. “You understand that, so why are you angry?”

Again, he came close, so close that she had to tip her head back to maintain eye contact, to show that she would not back down. “I’m angry,” Steve breathed, dipping his head until his lips were a mere breath away from hers. “Because you’re keeping things from me, Maria.”

She blinked. “I don’t understand.” Most of her instincts were screaming to push him away again. Psy senses were not as sensitive as Changelings, or even humans. Yet the scent of him was intoxicating, evergreens and mountain water and sheer power. It made the other, smaller part of her want to curl her hands into his shirt and yank him down to close that remaining distance.

Pain licked up her spine, but she didn’t blink.

“No, you really don’t.” Interesting, she thought, how four simple words could pack so much - frustration and delight, anger and amusement. Blue filled her vision until it was all she could see. “I don’t like the thought of knowing so little about you. Knowing so little _of_ you.”

From one moment to the next, Maria’s heart beat as fast as it ever had. She breathed in, then out, forcing it down. Given her proximity to Steve and the acuity of his senses, there was no way he would have missed the change. “I fail to see why you would need to know anything about me beyond my allegiances and the abilities that the Howling Commandos can use to their advantage,” she responded coolly, retreating behind distance and shields.

 _I thought you wouldn’t push those limits_ remained unsaid.

The statement was meant to be cold and cutting, to put them both in their respective places. He was the alpha, she was the lieutenant.

Instead, Steve laughed, and there was a promise in that sound, one she could not begin to wrap her head around. “You still have a lot to learn about Changelings, _a rún._ But keep thinking that, if it gives you comfort.” His knuckles brushed lightly over her cheek before he turned for the door. “Let’s get back to the others before Clint teleports in to rescue you.”

That again. “I can teleport myself.” She hesitated. “What does that mean?”

When he looked at her over his shoulder, his eyes were all wolf. “What does what mean?”

“ _A rún._ ” Her tongue curled around the unfamiliar sounds.

“I guess that’s my little secret.”

Pia found her the moment they stepped into the den corridor, her hand automatically reaching out for Maria’s. The dissonance only yielded the faintest twinge, its hold on her - at least in this particular instance - almost completely gone.

She still remembered the day when Pia first came up to her in one of the lush indoor gardens of the Howling Commando den.

“The wolves have skin privileges,” the girl stated. Her posture was still and perfect, purely Psy, but her eyes gave her away, darting here and there.

“They do,” Maria acknowledged. The wolves were easy with touch, always ready to give or receive a kiss or a hug, even just a simple caress of the hand. But they never took it for granted because touch _was_ a privilege and therefore, precious. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

Pia shook her head. “I like hugs,” she whispered.

“Then that is all that matters.”

Her face pinched with determination. “May I hold your hand?”

Maria considered the request, made by one who never would have thought to ask such a thing in Silence. Everything she’s done, she’s done for the protection of these children. To turn down such a small thing would put a wound on that soul.

That was one thing she could never do. She held out her hand. “Of course.”

Pia took it, a bright, brief smile flickering over her lips.

After that, it was like a seal was broken. The rest of the Psy children would find her, hovering silently at her side before asking to hold her hand. The pups, who had always been curious around her, became bolder, rubbing against her legs and shamelessly begging for pets. Scott’s daughter Cassie took it one step further, jumping into her lap during a pack gathering and promptly falling asleep while numerous Howling Commandos snickered in the background at her discomfort (and reluctance to dislodge the sleeping girl).

“They trust you,” Phil said simply when she came to him, bewildered by the attention. “They know you’ll protect them and that you’ll never turn them away.” His eyes crinkled at the corners. “I always knew you would be a good trainer.”

And with the children’s trust, freely and unconditionally given, came more trust and even friendship from the rest of the pack.

“Maria!” Pepper called, breaking her out of her thoughts. “Come here and have some cake before everyone eats it!”

“Race you for cake,” she told Pia solemnly, and then zipped through the crowd with a giggling girl on her heels.

Life amongst the Howling Commandos was dangerous, confusing, and a battle of constant vigilance, but she found herself unwilling to part from it.

* * *

 

Days passed, days in which Natasha, Maria, and Clint waited for their fellow Arrows within the PsyNet to come up with the information they sought. The Winter Soldier might not be Psy, but he was controlled by one, and only the Arrows had the skills to go find the things someone on the Council would best prefer hidden.

Natasha watched as Pietro and Wanda mingled with the Howling Commando teenagers - Nick’s suggestion. “There’s no doubt the twins have been accepted by those at RedWing, but they may also find greater understanding amongst the wolves,” he’d told Steve via comm. The falcons were predatory Changelings and unmatched in the sky, but they weren’t wolves.

A burst of laughter, and then Wanda was being dragged off by some of the girls while Pietro and the boys ran over to the newest iteration of the obstacle course - a scaled-down version of the training runs used by the pack’s soldiers.

“What are the falcon nestlings and teenagers like?” Maria asked. “Behaviorally.”

“Nestlings are constantly begging for food,” Clint responded.

“Isn’t that simply something children do?” The Psy children at the den learned very quickly that they didn’t have to subsist on tasteless nutrition bars and there was always good food to be found in the kitchen, as well as maternals willing to indulge them.

The faintest hint of a smile. “They can be particularly noisy about it.”

“Jumping off of things.” Natasha nodded approvingly when Pietro missed a handhold and with a smooth twist, corrected himself before he could hit the ground. “You constantly have to be ready to catch a falling body. Training their wings, they say, even if they’re in human form. Also grooming.”

Maria glanced at Natasha’s hair, pulled into a perfect French braid. “Their doing?”

“Naturally. I’ve heard that the pups here have taken a liking to you, too.” She angled her head ever so slightly.

“They trust me,” was the simple reply. She would never understand why, but she would do everything in her power to never betray it.

“It’s the same at RedWing,” Clint said. “I couldn’t have imagined it when we defected.” He’d expected death, one way or another - they all had.

Steve was showing the same depth of trust by allowing them to run this mission alone. Done properly, no suspicion would come down on the Howling Commandos or the Arrows.

It was only right.

Finally, the call came through, and Clint teleported them to the middle of a barren desert. The sun beat down mercilessly overhead, glinting off the dark, straight hair of the woman who waited for them.

“May.” Natasha inclined her head towards the woman who’d trained her, the one who was now the de facto leader of the Arrows now that they no longer answered to Councilor Pierce.

“This would have been easier with you, Natasha. No one’s as good as you when it comes to tasks like these.”

“Is it that difficult without us?” Clint asked, half serious and half teasing.

Melinda would never roll her eyes, but her short pause conveyed that sentiment well enough. “I said we don’t have anyone as good, not that we don’t have anyone. Here is what you need.” She opened a telepathic link between the four of them, sharing the information.

“We can go right away.” Maria pulled out her cell phone, telling Steve to be prepared.

“Good luck. Not that you need it.” Melinda hesitated, and waited until Maria looked at her. “Tell Phil...his presence is missed.” With that, she teleported away.

Natasha’s focus sharpened, as it always did when a mission was imminent. _Ready?_

 _“_ His shields have been obliterated,” Clint observed coolly. “I have the lock on his mind.”

The three of them were gone in the blink of an eye, disappearing from the desert and reappearing in a stark, sterile room with a single cryogenic tank in the center.

Natasha looked into the single window in the cryo tank. The Winter Soldier’s hair was longer than she remembered, but even that could not mar the wild, masculine beauty of him. Alexander Pierce had been unable to erase all of that, even when he’d broken him and turned the Changeling all but Silent.

_“Romanova. A word.”_

_She immediately broke from her sparring, briefly bowing to Sooraya. “What may I do for you, Councilor Pierce?”_

_She supposed that once, Councilor Pierce had been handsome, but those good looks had only served as a mask for the soulless husk beneath. Age had only revealed the true man, carving deep, merciless lines into his face and sinking in eyes that could have been glass, for all the emotion they reflected._

_“Come with me.” The room he led her to was empty but for a man who stood as still as a statue. He did not even blink when they entered. He was tall, towering over both her and the councilor, and heavily muscled. His face was classically beautiful, with strong bones and a mouth made for smiling._

_“A Changeling.” Yet he was dressed in standard issue Arrow armor._

_“Test his shields,” Councilor Pierce commanded._

_It took her less than a fraction of second. “He has none.”_

_“Because he is mine.” A simple, cruel statement. “You will train him and accompany him on missions of my choosing. Should his conditioning break, you are to incapacitate him and report to me immediately.”_

_“Understood.”_

_He retrieved a small tablet from his suit and handed it over. “The details of your mission are here. A car is waiting above to take you to the residence and training facilities you will be using. You have two weeks, Romanova.” That failure was unacceptable went unsaid._

_“Yes, Councilor. How am I to address him?”_

_He turned for the door, already dismissing them. “Soldier.”_

_As the door clicked shut, she observed the man she was to call soldier. Every Changeling she’d ever seen, regardless of their disposition, had been so utterly_ alive, _filled to the brim and overflowing with the wild, bright light of emotion._

_Alexander Pierce had well and truly broken this one, his life all but snuffed out._

_Yet as she stepped forward, she saw his nostrils flare briefly, and something move within those remarkable eyes before they shuttered completely. “I am Natasha Romanova,” she informed him, wondering at that small rebellion. “Your partner.”_

_Guards,_ Clint said, bringing Natasha back to the present.

 _Done,_ Maria confirmed. With her ability as a TK-Cell, she could stop hearts and burst blood vessels with a simple twist of her power, leaving behind a string of untraceable deaths.

_Traps, Nat?_

Natasha delved into the sleeping Changeling mind without hesitation. She disabled one trap, then two, meant to alert Councilor Pierce of any possible tampering. The amount of potential energy stored in them meant one thing: tripping or forcibly trying to disable them would result in the death of the intruder as well as the Winter Soldier himself.

It was Councilor Pierce through and through - cold, calculated, and without mercy. If he couldn’t have the Winter Soldier, no one could.

Even as she worked, she put down shields of her own, layering them, anchoring them, making them invisible. If Councilor Pierce were to try and retrieve the Winter Soldier, it would not be through psychic means.

And good luck getting through Howling Commando territory.

 _All immediate traps are disabled,_ she announced. _Let’s get out of here._

This time, they reappeared in the heart of Howling Commandos territory, in an isolated cabin where Steve waited with the pack’s healer, Betty Ross.

Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh Bucky,” she whispered, even as she began the process of bringing him out of cryogenic sleep for the last time. Natasha moved to a nearby chair before resuming her hunt, determined to find all of the councilor’s nasty little triggers, likely tied to key phrases or situations.

Maria glanced at Steve as Clint began debriefing him on the mission, concentrating most of her focus on the prone body in front of her. There was no telling how Bucky Barnes would react upon waking, even once Natasha was finished. It would cost her nothing to collapse his lungs enough to prevent him from breathing easily, or constrict the blood vessels in his brain and make him pass out.

She could do that, if only to spare those who loved him and would be hard pressed to harm him.

Steve’s eyes hadn’t left Bucky from the moment they teleported in, even though most of his attention was devoted to listening to Clint’s report. Everything about his stance screamed _wolf,_ the other part of him perilously close to the surface.

To see his best friend die in front of his eyes, and then to realize that not only has he been alive all this time, but kidnapped, wiped, and repurposed by his greatest enemy...Maria did not blame him for the guilt, rage, and protectiveness he was feeling. And she would not blame him for whatever actions he took in revenge against Councilor Pierce.

“Let us know what you want to do from here,” Clint finished. “We are at your disposal as well.”

“Thank you.” Steve’s voice was hoarse.

Clint inclined his head at Maria, and then shot Natasha a quick glance before teleporting back to New York.

“How is he responding?” Steve murmured to Betty, finally moving to the foot of the bed. He made no move to touch his friend even though it was clear he wanted to, badly.

She consulted the readouts on the biobed. “He’s responding well to everything. He’ll probably wake up naturally within the hour, unless-”

“I need him under longer,” Natasha interrupted. “Disarming these triggers is a delicate process. It’s going to take time.”

Steve’s jaw clenched and Betty looked conflicted at the idea of keeping Bucky under longer. “How much time?”

“A few hours.”

“Are you going to flame out?” he demanded. Maria felt the ghost of a touch along the back of her hand, as though he’d trailed his fingers across it. It was gone before she could react, but it made her heart thump almost painfully in her chest nonetheless.

“Not if I have Phil,” was the even, measured response. “He can take over with the shielding.”

His eyebrow went up in question and Maria answered. “Your friend’s natural shielding is shredded: it’s how Councilor Pierce was able to control him and place so many traps. Natasha’s the best at shielding-” She had to be, in order to ghost through the PsyNet undetected, and tear down targets’ shields enough to place the viruses that were her specialty. “-but she can’t disarm the traps and maintain his shields at the same time for so long or she _will_ flame out. If he’s not shielded, there’s a chance Councilor Pierce could get him again.”

“Phil taught all of us how to shield,” Natasha added. “He is the best choice for this.”

“And will he be able to help Bucky repair his shields when he wakes up?”

Maria nodded. “He is the best choice for that, as well.” As a trainer for the children, Phil knew more about creating shields from scratch than just about anyone. Because while Natasha’s shields were the strongest and most invisible, Phil knew the most about protecting vulnerable minds.

“Okay. Bring him in.”

Three hours later, Phil had come and gone, and Betty as well. Steve and Maria remained. Steve refused to leave his best friend’s side until he awakened, and the rest of the pack understood, funneling important pack business through the rest of the lieutenants and senior soldiers.

Natasha sat back slightly in her seat. “It’s finished.”

“Everything?” Steve asked. “Every trigger, anything that might tip off Councilor Pierce?”

“I’m very good at what I do, Steve,” she said, almost wryly. _I won’t leave him to Councilor Pierce again,_ she told Maria.

Steve’s head lifted, a predator scenting something in the air despite what had gone unsaid. “Just who is Bucky to you, Natasha?” he said slowly.

Before she could answer, the Winter Soldier - Bucky’s - eyes opened.

At the same time, the cabin door opened and Betty stepped through to check on her patient once more.

He moved like lightning from the bed, lunging for Natasha. Maria stepped forward, already reaching for his lungs with her power, but Steve came in front of her. A quick glance over his shoulder and a shake of his head stopped her.

 _He’s not attacking me, Maria._ Natasha stood, calm and collected, in the corner where she’d been shoved. _He’d be out cold if he were._

The man Maria remembered, the cool and calculating, unstoppable soldier was gone. This man was wild, unkempt, a mad light in his eyes and a growl issuing from his throat. He crouched in front of Natasha, every bit of his attention focused on Maria and Steve. Almost as though he was protecting her from those he viewed as threats.

“Bucky,” Steve began, his hands raised.

A low snarl. “Mate. _Mine_.”

Everyone froze at that declaration, locked in a strange tableau. Maria’s mind raced. Bucky would savage them without a thought if they so much as moved wrong. She had to be the one to knock him out right now, even if Steve never forgave her. Concealed behind Steve’s bulk, she reached out, fingers brushing his shoulder blade in a brief apology for what she was about to do.

But Natasha took that decision out of her hands, sliding gracefully behind Bucky and gently pressing a spot at the back of his neck.

He crumpled back into Natasha’s arms. “Did you just give him a Vulcan nerve pinch?” Tony asked from the doorway, where he’d shoved Betty behind him at the first sign of disturbance.

“Acupressure point.” Natasha’s expression never changed, but her next few words were pointed and laced with frost. “Well, are you all going to stare or are you going to help me and explain to me what this means?”

“I really didn’t see that coming,” Tony muttered, coming over to help, Betty following close behind.

“I don’t think anyone did,” Steve replied.

Maria stepped back as everyone converged on Natasha and Bucky. A Psy rebel and a brainwashed Changeling assassin. _Mates._

This had the potential to change everything.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Philyra:** First off, tielan let us play in her sandbox and for that we are so grateful! I don't know where this fic would have gone without her encouragement, enthusiasm, and in-universe tidbits. I...kind of want to write more. If you haven't read the Psy-Changeling series, I highly recommend them because the world Nalini Singh has built is delightfully rich and intricate.
> 
> Steve basically calls Maria "my secret," after all that talk about secrets. Do with that what you will, but I definitely had a chuckle over that whilst looking over Gaelic endearments.
> 
> Big hugs to Trish for asking me to do this with her! Her podfic absolutely blew my mind (but then I expected nothing less from her!). This is my first pod_together and collaborating like this was a blast. Also, thanks to our beta, Jadesfire, and Frea_O for the fanart.
> 
>  **blackglass:** Thank you so much to Jo for making my MCU/Psy-Changeling fic dreams come true. I...may have spent entirely too much time imagining these characters in the Psy-Changeling universe and had a blast talking out the details of this AU with her. Thanks again to Jadesfire for her worldbuilding beta and to Frea_O for the cover art! If Jo ever writes more (AND SHE SHOULD) I will totally podfic it. :D
> 
> Music: "Seven Devils" by Florence + The Machine


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